Potter for the Win
by thegirlwiththeradishearrings
Summary: A short James/Lily one-shot on the events after a Gryffindor quidditch match. Bit of smut.


How did the human eye analyze color? Was it different for each person? Lily speculated with great interest. Where she saw peach did others see tan? A certain array of colors can seem fairly pallid to one person, but vigorous to another. And did the eye abruptly change its perception of the color red?

Was the Head Girl completely delusional? When the possibility of insanity was called into question, the person accused would, under normal circumstances, be fairly unsettled and disturbed by it, but Lily was too enamored by James Potter's ass to be dejected at the thought. How could a tedious shade of rusty red suddenly turn a dazzling ruby hue?

Lily leaned her shoulder against a wall, jutting out a slender hip. Fairy lights glowed brightly above her, shrouding the Common Room in spectacular colors. The menagerie of Gryffindors celebrating their win against Slytherin shouted over an old, warped record player wheezing out the melody of a Workers' Wands song. Remus and Peter had brought down copious amounts of butterbeer and Honeyduke's finest just moments after everyone packed themselves into the great room.

It was shortly after the drinks and treats had been circulated that Lily began to watch the seventh year Quidditch Captain vigilantly. He wore a large grin on his face, that for once in his life seemed purely out of jubilance. Lily regarded him from a distance, standing silently by the portrait hole.

Was her apprehension of gold and red slowly transitioning to a more lively shade? Or perhaps it was just the Quidditch uniform that made her appreciate the Captain's physique. She narrowed her eyes at the Head Boy. Lily was generally gifted as being diplomatic, but the urge burning through her veins wasn't solvable through polite conversation.

The tie around her neck was loose and hung limply against her chest while the collar of her shirt was damp with perspiration. Her cheeks were flushed and her hair was tumbling out of its bun, curling around her face and neck.

James was encircled by their peers, laughing energetically. Despite playing a murderous Quidditch match, Potter seemed just as lively and rambunctious as ever. His glasses were replaced by a pair of goggles which were shoved back into his hair. The thick black strands were windswept and twisted with sweat. His hazel eyes glittered in the light, occasionally darting over to Lily.

Every few minutes or so, his eyes would flitter to hers and he would wink subtly, lips twitching with amusement. That bastard.

Lily tugged uncomfortably at her shirt. Was it uncommonly hot in the Common Room tonight? Her lips stung as her tongue ran over them. She tucked a few loose tendrils of hair behind her ears and backed off the cool stone wall. Slumping around the corner, she exited the portrait hole, brushing by some fifth years on her way out.

James Potter swung out of the portrait hole only moments later. The grin was gone, a devious smirk in its place. "Alright, Evans?" He called.

"Took you long enough," Lily didn't waiting for his reply, she just locked her arms around his neck and pulled him against the wall. Her shoulders pressed into the hard stone, her back arching to fit his body. He lifted her up, hips cradling her weight. His lips were burning against her neck, his hands ensnaring themselves in her messy hair. As the bun unraveled completely, her red torrents cascaded around their faces in damp clumps.

"Good game by the way, Captain," Lily smiled into his ear. His lips were now on her jaw, arms wrapping around her waist. His breath was ragged and hot on her cheek, and she felt him grin. She ran her fingers against his rugged uniform, the muscles underneath were cinched tightly. Her fingers slid across his skin and into his knotted hair. It was soft and cool tangled in her fingers, the sensation prickled Lily's spine. James pushed his lips onto hers softly, the change in aggression sudden but not unwanted. They both leaned back slightly. He traced circles into her waist with his thumbs, and brushed their noses together. His eyes were alight and dancing with wonder, his cheeks burning a feverish rouge. She liked the way the Head Boy looked just then: on the brink of insanity, charged with the blood pumping in his ears, but still admiring her patiently.

He snaked an arm higher up her back, the rough callused hand gliding over her freckled skin. She leaned further into his body, edging her weight up the wall. Straddling her legs around James's waist, Lily flushed with a new heat wave. Her lips dragged across his salty skin, tongue flickering out in hot lashes. James's other hand danced across her thigh, holding her against him. Lily closed her eyes and leaned her head against James's. He groaned into her ear and she laughed.

"Can't handle me, Potter?" She pressed their foreheads together, laughing.

He grinned wryly and snorted with indignation. "Please, Evans. I'm offended."


End file.
